Masks and Boxes
by madgirlmuahaha
Summary: I don't talk a lot, but it's not because I don't have anything to say, sssssss. It's because I'd rather listen. When you listen and watch carefully, you can see what people are like under their masks. Almost everybody has a mask, but nobody will admit it, and people like to deny that they have one. That's why you have to be sneaky to get a glimpse of what's under it.


I've always been a bit... _different_. I taught myself how to read, you know. And I have to wear contacts or glasses all of the time, too. When I was a little girl, I used to read too much in the car at night and I didn't eat enough carrots, and that's why I need my contacts. As much as I loved reading, though, I always loved writing more.

I was born to be a writer.

When other kids were reading The Cat in the Hat and Don't let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, I was reading newspapers and tabloids and anything else that had to do with the real world. My dad was a cameraman for the local news, and he always encouraged me to keep in touch with the real world and current events.

But the more I read and listened to the media, the more I realized that the politicians, the celebrities, the CEO's of huge corporations, they all have one thing in common.

They all wear masks.

Not literal like the ghost in that one case, mind you: I mean invisible masks, psychological masks. The masks that are harder to detect.

Behind those masks, they hide pain, scandal, humiliation, and humanity. They hide the real story of the human being behind the mask.

At first, I thought that just famous people wore such well-hidden masks. And then it was revealed in the middle of our family's Fourth of July picnic that my grandpa had been having an affair with a much younger woman behind my grandma's back.

That's when I realized that everybody wears masks, not just the people in the spotlight.

When I went to Themis in the following fall, the first assignment Professor Means gave us was to find our own unique individual style of getting information. He told us that it was good to try out whatever means necessary to get the information we needed, but we always needed our own unique manner to fall back on if they failed us. That's when I came up with the idea of the box-people drop their masks when they think they're alone. If I could camouflage myself so they believed they were alone, I could weasel out any info about who they were and what they did when they weren't guarded.

Everybody has masks, after all, and I was determined to rip them off of their faces. Not just because I was curious, but because I was convinced it was the right thing to do. The truth has to get out somehow, you know, and if the someone won't reveal the truth, then there has to be someone else around to take their mask off and reveal the truth to the world. Otherwise, we'd live in a world full of secrets and lies.

Actually, we already live in a world full of secrets and lies, because everybody has a mask. Society itself masks the fact that it is so flawed by denying that everybody has a mask. Society says that we have to be perfect, but nobody is and society never tells us that nobody is perfect. We are always striving to reach an impossible goal without really seeing that this goal is truly impossible because our masks obstruct our view.

Then there are the people who refuse to live out the message of society, who choose to ignore the grand farce that is mainstream culture and focus instead on some personal goal so strong and so desirable that they are able to resist anything that may cause them to lose sight of their ultimate goal. These are people like Hugh, Robin, and Juniper.

I suspected there was something strange about Juniper when I first met her. She was too kind, too polite, too composed to not have some sort of dark secret. The worst of it was that I couldn't find much wrong with her, except her 'friends'. They always kind of kept to themselves, out of shyness, perhaps, but most likely out of secrecy. And they were so different! When school would let out, they'd all depart in different directions- one to the art room, another to the archery range, and the other to the library to study. They were taking different classes because of the different courses they were in, they engaged in different activities, and had completely different personalities.

I didn't get how any of them had become such close friends. Naturally, I realized that there must have been some sort of tension between Hugh and Robin- they were two guys who were close friends with the second prettiest girl in school, and I figured that either one of them or both had some sort of crush on her. This would explain why all three of them were so close. The two guys would fight for her heart, and she would stand back and watch the tension grow, enjoying every moment she had in the spotlight.

That selfish witch. Who did she think she was, pitting two innocent young lads against each other just for her own entertainment? She was so kind and polite in public, she probably had dozens of adoring fans and took delight in playing with their hearts.

Of course, after her trial, I felt kind of bad for publishing all of that stuff about her and Robin and Hugh, but how was I supposed to know that she really was nice and polite? I hadn't ever met anybody who didn't wear any sort of mask around their heart. I hadn't ever really seen anybody who pursued a relationship or a skill for something other than personal gain or the humiliation of others, and it shocked me.

I'll even admit something of my own. I wear my box because it's the only place I feel safe anymore. It's the only place I can be Myriam Scuttlebutt without having to worry about being judged, although ironically people do judge me for wearing a box. But at least they judge me for my box and my espionage, instead of my personality or appearance or asocial tendencies. My box is my mask: I use it to hide what I don't want the world to see, just like everybody else. But having a physical mask does have some drawbacks, I suppose. Most people don't even bother talking to me; they just give me weird looks and carry on. It's fine, though. I don't mind that I don't have any friends other than my computer or notepad.

I prefer listening to talking anyway.


End file.
